What Makes a Face
I was sad a few weeks ago, let’s say no less than three. Like, more than I’d normally like to admit to anyone who doesn’t know my temperament to grief and loss already. I’m still pretty lost in the sauce regarding Phantom dying two years ago. I like to say that grief is a mountain; some analogy I picked from this article - Imagine that everyone suffering from this grief is all at the top of a mountain, but you all have broken bones, so you can’t help each other. You each have to find your own way down.
I think about that every day, and healing isn’t linear. It didn’t hit me until the first year; another went by. Its heaviness loomed and blanketed me like a fog. I cry hard, have a puffy face for a day or so, and then carry on crawling down the mountain. It’s harder this year; I’m unemployed again, and Tyson was out of town for the full week. I was stuck on the mountain again. I don’t have the secure, close friend group I imagined having this late in life. There are so many losses I grieve for, the many lives I could have lived and maybe enjoyed had I been encouraged to believe in my own magic instead of it being slowly siphoned from me.
I guess that’s why when I was bundled and sad, watching Dawson’s Creek, that scrolling Instagram finally paid off for all those skincare advertisers. My FYP is squealing at delight to show off the status quo of Korean skincare meant for women over 40 looking to invest in themselves and take a chance on their self-esteem. Needless to say, I filled my Amazon basket as I researched and read about what may or may not work for my combo skin, which is prone to hormonal acne. Days later, a big bag of lotions and potions showed up. Here is what I received.
Each is linked to Amazon.
